At the same time, on the streets of Turin, several gentlemen and ladies walking with umbrellas suddenly noticed something strange in the city.
At some point, a layer of water nearly half a foot deep had accumulated on the street, completely soaking their boots and trousers. This was something that had never happened in Turin in previous years.
The dim yellow water exudes an unbearable pungent odor, and there are countless rat corpses and rotting impurities floating on it. It is obvious that this water is poured from the sewer.
Torrential rain washed away the city streets, bringing all the filth and dirt into the water. The turbid and yellow water looked simply more disgusting than the cesspits of rural farmhouses.
A graceful and elegant lady screamed and lifted up her skirt. She simply could not accept that such dirty smelly water had soiled her expensive clothes:
"Oh my God, what the hell happened!"
"There must be something wrong with the city's sewer system." Someone immediately echoed.
"Damn it. So much tax money is spent on repairs every year, and something like this happens. I think the person in charge of the project should be shot!"
"Oh, who knew there was so much to be fished out of here?"
"Let's wait until the rain subsides before we leave. The accumulated water will naturally go away after the rain stops."
Several pedestrians crowded into a small pavilion on the roadside, chatting and waiting for the annoying heavy rain to subside on its own.
However, an hour later, these citizens were horrified to find that not only was the downpour showing no signs of stopping, but the water on the ground was also rising at a speed visible to the naked eye.
In just one hour, the water level, which was only half a foot deep just now, was now completely submerged to the calf, making it difficult to walk.
Everyone stared dumbfounded at the city streets that looked like a vast ocean in front of them, unable to say anything for a long while.
Shop owners on both sides of the street hurriedly put up signs saying they were closed and sealed the doors with wooden boards; the horse-hitch posts on the road were almost completely submerged by the water, and only the rounded tips could barely be seen.
The city was in chaos, and people could be heard crying and shouting everywhere.
Countless residential houses have been filled with this dirty, turbid sewage. The middle-class citizens are panicking to save the storage in their basements, while the homeless poor are collapsing and yelling, watching helplessly.
Their only shack was destroyed by strong winds and floods.
Criminals who take advantage of the chaos are also found in every corner of the city. The greedy eyes of robbers and thieves are looking at every poor person with a bulging wallet and a homeless family.
In the more low-lying west side of the city, the situation is only worse.
The water in the deepest part has risen to the waist, and even children who have been separated from their parents have drowned in this vast ocean.
Everywhere you can see citizens with their families, displaced, and all their belongings walking on the streets at a loss, not knowing where to go. Their residences have either been submerged in water, or have been crumbling under the erosion of heavy rain and floods.
The bureaucrats and police in the city were exhausted, but there was nothing they could do. They had never seen such violent rainstorms and floods in their lives.
The bureaucrats wanted to open the sewers to release the flood, but found that the boundless flood was actually pouring out of the sewers, and countless water columns were pouring into the city from the damaged parts of the city wall.
What should be done next? Will the water level continue to rise? Should the troops stationed in the bastion take action? No one can give a definite answer.
It's messed up, it's all messed up.
At this moment, nearly 200,000 people in Turin have only one question in their minds:
What the hell happened?! Is this really just something wrong with the city’s sewers?!
...
But in the Turin Palace, there is nothing but peace and tranquility.
The game in the garden lasted for more than three hours. The general and the king had already tied three to three. The two sides were fighting fiercely in the final set. Even the royal band in the garden changed their music to an exciting one.
's march.
Whether it was His Majesty the King who was already superior in skills or whether this trusted general took the initiative to show weakness, Carlo Emanuele III already had a slight advantage in the decisive game.
The trusted general grabbed a handful of macarons and threw them into his mouth like chewing peanuts. Every time His Majesty the King made a move, he would say a compliment without repeating:
"This castling move is so exciting, Your Majesty, I don't think even the so-called masters can make this move."
"Hmph..."
Carlo Emanuele III focused all his energy on the chessboard in front of him. As a competitive king, he would definitely win even a friendly match with his subordinates.
While the two parties were fighting in the chess game, a courtier walked into the garden cautiously and waited patiently for His Majesty the King to complete a move before whispering:
"Your Majesty, General, the military commander-in-chief has asked to see you. He said he has something important to report."
Carlo Emanuele III, whose thoughts were interrupted, was slightly unhappy:
"General Quartermaster? That colonel? What's going on with him?"
The confidant general on the side was even more unhappy. He was very annoyed that this subordinate ruined the good things between himself and the king at this time:
"I think he is probably going to complain again. He has been telling me all day long that the citizens cannot harvest enough food, and that the rationing system has made the citizens complain. Hmm, what a coward."
In order to maximize the duration of Turin's resistance, Carlo Emanuele III only gave the main guidelines for implementing the rationing system, but the specific implementation was naturally the responsibility of the general.
The methods of the trusted general were also extremely simple and crude. He directly ordered the General Quartermaster to send armed grain requisition officers to conduct house-to-house searches and collections.
Of course, no one can say whether these grain collectors will collect other things in the name of protecting their country and line their own pockets during the process.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! As for whether these grain collectors will go to the homes of powerful nobles and wealthy families, it is even more uncertain.
Moreover, it is easy to collect grain, but it is difficult to distribute it. A middle-class citizen handed over all 300 pounds of stored grain in his basement to the army. As a result, a family of five could only receive four pieces of bread and a small can every day.
Black beans, this is also very common.
"Yeah..."
Carlo Emanuele III frowned slightly. He had been ruling the country and commanding the army for more than forty years. Of course he also knew how important the hearts and morale of the besieged city were:
"I think we can also relax the requirements of the rationing system a little and allow citizens to hold a small amount of food themselves. Anyway, the Corsican people will not force us to the point where we run out of ammunition and food."
The general waved his hands quickly, as if he was very confident in his work, and also wanted to show his ability in front of the king:
"No need. Your policy is undoubtedly good. At most, some people below have failed to implement it. There is no need to make any changes to the rationing system, Your Majesty."
His Majesty the King was naturally extremely pleased when he heard this. Just as he was about to praise him, the courtiers on the side suddenly interrupted:
"Your Majesty...the Chief of Munitions does not seem to be here for the rationing system. It seems...because of the sudden floods inside and outside the city."
"flood?"
The general and the king both asked in unison, and Carlo Emanuele III even turned pale:
"What a flood, please explain clearly!"
The courtier hurriedly recounted what he had just witnessed outside the palace. According to his description, the current city of Turin was already a panic-stricken mess. Such chaos had not appeared in the city in the previous fifty years.
spirit.
"impossible!"
The general stood up with wide eyes, not even caring about the chessboard knocked over by his bloated belly, and loudly accused:
"Absolutely impossible. Such heavy rain has never happened before. How could it flood the entire city today! If you dare to confuse His Majesty again..."
"Enough!"
Carlo Emanuele III shouted angrily, and with just one sentence, the general shut up in an instant.
He held his forehead in thought, his face turned pale, and an irrelevant report he received two weeks ago kept flashing through his mind - the Corsican army was building large-scale fortifications south of Turin, and was suspected of re-erecting a bridge to cross the river.
South of Turin, there are large-scale fortifications, and the water level of the Po River has been unusually low in recent days. The Corsican army launched a complete blockade of Turin today...
These clues were strung together and instantly exploded in the mind of Carlo Emanuele III.
He understood, he understood everything. Only then did Carlo Emanuele III suddenly realize that he and the entire kingdom should pay the price for underestimating the enemy.
That Laurence Bonaparte is by no means a person who lives up to his name.
When the king spoke again, his voice was no longer as majestic as before:
"Let the quartermaster come in, I want to see him now!"
The trusted general swallowed nervously, thinking that his recklessness had angered His Majesty the King, and he quickly leaned down to pick up the scattered chess pieces:
"Your Majesty, there is no need to worry. This is just alarmist talk. We should continue the chess game just now..."
Carlo Emanuele III was suddenly so angry that he almost fainted. He grabbed a handful of chess pieces and smashed them directly into the general's face:
"You stupid pig! Don't you understand? This is done by the Corsicans. They are going to flood Turin! How cruel and unscrupulous! Why don't you go back to your post!"
"Yes...yes! Your Majesty, I'm going right now, I'm going right now!"
The general covered his eyes with severe pain, but he did not dare to scream out at all, and hurriedly bowed his body and retreated from the back garden.
The commander-in-chief of munitions walked in the door and happened to pass by the general. Seeing his own officials in such embarrassment, the face of the munitions-general who was already ashen-faced became even more ugly.
To be continued...